The next one surprised me; poetry, dedicated to the fae’s love for the natural world. I got lost somewhere in meadows and rolling hills.
It gave me an urge to see the real thing. I stared out his window to the right. Rain clouds now covered the mountains, but the path to the wall was still clear. It hadn’t occurred to me last time just how exposed we were. There weren’t even any curtains. Dimitri could walk right by here and see me lounging around.
Wilder walked back into the living room carrying a tray with two mugs and two glasses. “D’you like poetry?”
“Yes.” I closed the book with a snap and set it aside.
He crouched and placed the tray in front of me. “Sorry it’s not more. I’m not really set up for having company.”
The china cups were brimming with a ruby-colored tea, whereas the glasses held the same dark liquid he’d downed the last time I’d been in his quarters. Curiosity struck me. “What’s the amber stuff called?”
“Braka. The closest thing humans have to it would be whiskey.” Wilder swept away books on the rug to give himself more space to kneel opposite me. He’d removed the thick boots he usually wore and was now bare-foot in my presence. He sat and crossed his legs, rubbing the back of his neck.
There was something so casual, so human in his actions, his expression. That thought forced me to smother a smile. I continued to peer at him from under my lashes as he picked up his mug. Determined not to be caught staring, I did the same and stuck my nose in my cup, breathing in raspberry and honey tea. Bliss.
The perfume helped clear my mind. I took a breath and said on the exhale, “Wilder, why am I here? Didn’t you hear what Dimitri said?”
“Actually, no,” he said, frowning. “Goldwyn spotted him talking to you and came to get me as backup. I only caught the tail end of your conversation.”
He gave me nothing else. “Oh.”
Taking a slow sip of his tea and watching me, he said, “What else did he say?”
“I’m sure you can guess.” I cringed at the bitterness laced in my words. Trying to temper my voice, I said, “He doesn’t want me anywhere near you or any other male fae.”
Wilder’s hands tightened around his mug. “He threatened you.”
A statement. Not a question. “Yes.”
He stared at the floor for a good minute, not saying anything. I sipped the fruity-scented goodness, and taking advantage of his attention elsewhere, my traitorous eyes fixated on the sun-streaked strands of hair falling around his face, on the delicate crease between his brows.
Finally, those green eyes found mine again. “What about the fae from the Wild Hunt?”
Startled out of my reverie, I blurted out, “Hunter? What about him?”
“Do we need to be worried about him?”
I couldn’t help it. “We?”
Wilder’s face contorted; his concentration slipped, and his mug crashed down on the tray, spraying tea everywhere. “Damn.”
He was dripping. Laughter came out of my nose.
Wiping his face with the back his sleeve, he muttered, “Yes, we. Because I’m worried for you.”
My laughter died.
Not bothering to mop down his fitted leather tunic, he continued, oh-so-seriously. “When you fought Jace, Frazer failed to keep his instincts in check. That’s the way it is with bonds when they are first created. And Frazer already seems damaged.” I almost erupted, but he hurried to explain himself. “I mean, he’s overprotective, even for a male fae. I don’t blame him—how could he not be? He’s suffered the worst fate imaginable for a fae, and spent years in silence. The loneliness and isolation must’ve been crushing.”
Those words were an arrow to my heart. Oh, Frazer.
“The problem is that such intense feelings for a human will be noticed—they were noticed. When Jace pinned you, Adrianna had to stop Frazer from running to you. People saw that. It’s why Hilda didn’t order Jace off you: she was too distracted.”
“Why didn’t you stop Jace?” I asked innocently.
“Because I was busy, watching for anyone who was showing an interest in your connection, which they have. Dimitri knew about us, he saw Frazer’s reaction, and straight afterward he found you talking privately with a male from the Hunt.” His eyes shuttered as if in pain. “The ice is melting beneath your feet, Serena. Monsters lie in wait. So yes, we need to be ready.”
Goosebumps prickled my skin. I didn’t know what I’d expected him to say next, but it definitely wasn’t what he did. “And one way to do that is for me to accompany you during the sixth trial.”
“You can’t,” I said, louder than I’d intended. “We’re meant to do it alone.”
Auntie snorted a bit. I knew why. I was already cheating, because Frazer had insisted on accompanying me.
Wilder eyed me narrowly. He leaned in. “Who told you that?”
Avoiding his gaze, swallowing hard, I replied, “I can’t say.”
“Serena!”
I cringed. He knew I hated to be barked at like that. “What?”
He looked strained to breaking point. I expected him to yell, but his eyes just smoldered. “You’re really not going to tell me?”
I relented, just enough to confess a little. “It’s the same person who told me more about my kin.”
Wilder rubbed his stubble, his expression a full-on grimace. He continued. “Fine. I can live without knowing your mystery source. But cheating or not, I can’t let you go alone when your life might be in danger. Dimitri could easily use this trial as an opportunity to capture you and take you before Morgan.”
My sip of tea went down the wrong way. Spluttering, I said, “I haven’t done anything wrong!”
His face turned grave. “Dimitri doesn’t see it like that. You’re a human. You’ve gotten too close to certain fae. Like me, for instance.”
It was my turn to bang my cup down on the tray. “That’s it? That’s my crime?”
Wilder’s gaze simmered with some deep, dark emotion. “It’s my crime. Not yours. Because I was wrong. From what you’ve said, Frazer’s scent hasn’t convinced him that there’s nothing between us. That, and his incessant jabs at me lately make me think he’s planning something.”
“Jabs?” I asked weakly, bracing my hands against my knees.
I got a sad little smile in return. “Dimitri keeps insinuating that my time in exile needs to come to an end; otherwise, I’ll forget what it is to be fae. Basically, he thinks I’m going soft.”
It took a second to put two and two together. A little gasp escaped when it came to me. “Morgan? He wants you to go back to her?”
A sourness marked Wilder’s rough laugh. He picked up his glass of braka and started to swirl its contents. I almost lost my patience, but then he said, “Morgan wants me back. She’s never been able to control me. Not fully. It intrigues and infuriates her—always has. And Dimitri’s her faithful dog. Anything she desires, he wants to get her. And I’ve tried,” he huffed. “Gods, I’ve tried to convince him. To stop him from thinking he’d found leverage on me through you. Because if he thought he’d found the right leash to drag me back to her, he’d do anything to get it.”
The revulsion in his voice sent a line of hot anger slicing through my senses.
He snorted, disgusted, and took a slug off his drink. Shaken, I followed suit and brought the glass to my lips. Flavors exploded in my mouth: coffee, caramel, coconut, and something like leather. I coughed and cringed. Blinking back the strong taste, I found Wilder staring. His face was … intense, searching. It made me giddy. Or maybe that was the drink.
He gulped down another swig of the foul concoction. So did I.
Wilder’s cheek feathered as he sucked in air to clear his senses. “Look, Dimitri’s not stupid. He won’t make a move in Kasi. Too many eyes on you, too many fae asking questions if something were to happen. Diana’s daughter being one of them.”
I cut him off. “But in the wilderness, I’m vulnerable?”
A curt nod and an edged smile answered. “Yes, so I’m going with you.”
The line of his jaw was granite. Absolute. Unyielding.